Sleeping With My Enemy
by Shenzuio
Summary: ((Donnie takes a trip down to "The Lower side of New York city" a supposed sanctuary for mutants. Upon decided to enter a bar, he meets an interesting character that he makes friends with. Little does he know that this friend is one of his greatest enemies...))


The Lower East Side was the one place in New York that mutants could roam free. His porcupine friend Elias was the one who told him about this area, as it was where Dogpound had beaten the snot out of him.

He walked down the side walk, giving the Purple Dragons cautious looks from under his hood, silently praying that they wouldn't recognize him. As soon as he heard about this "grace area" where mutants in New York could come around, he knew he had to investigate. Elias wasn't kidding when he said the place was full of them.

He wasn't expecting to see any familiar faces down here.

The Purple Dragon presence In the Low (as the Purple Dragons lovingly referred to it) was down. Ever since the fire at the Antique Shop a lot of The Purple Dragons decided to hide out for a bit. The Low was still full of mutants, however. More of them daily. Whatever those Kraang were up to…a lot of people were getting caught in the crossfire.

But Dogpound didn't care. He had trouble caring about…anything. He had his once chance to prove to Master Shredder that he wasn't a screw up. He had one chance to bring in the only person who knew where the vermin were. He had it in the palm of his hand and what happened?

He blew it. He shamed The Foot. He shamed The Purple Dragons. He had shamed himself. Dogpound sat on the stool of the bar, while other Purple Dragons were drowning their sorrows in spirits. Dogpound simply kept his head down. He had his cloak on and his hood over his face. Normally when Dogpound was around it was a spectacle. But today? He didn't want anyone to know he was here. "Uh…Sir?…I got what you asked for." The Bartender returned fromt he back. "Not to pry or anything…but..it's a weird request for someone to want to drink…that." Dogpound didn't look up. He instead reached out with his good arm (the other was still in a sling) and bit the cap off of the bottle. He poured the contents into a mug and took a swig. The Bartender went to take the bottle and Dogpound growled, "Leave it." The Bartender nodded and backed away slowly. Dogpound knew if Karai had caught wind of what he was doing he'd never hear the end of it. But…he didn't care. He just wanted to wallow in it for awhile. Dogpound tipped the mug back to his lips, and took another big swig of chocolate syrup. It was going to be a long night.

Donnie hadn't a clue as to where exactly he wanted to go. There were plenty of opportunities, plenty of places to go. It was kind of shocking as to how the mutants could be seen in such plain sight with not a soul caring.

He decided to enter the bar. Donnie wasn't one to drink alcohol, nor would he ever really be, but how often does a fifteen year old get access to a bar without needing an ID?

He walked through the entrance carefully. He hated to have to do this, but he had to leave his naginata outside, hidden on the rooftop of the very same bar. It wouldn't be difficult to get to.

He approached the bar, scanning it in for an open seat, Purple Dragons clogged the entire bar, except for one seat, next to a large, hooded figure. He took no notice of who it could be, taking a seat next to the (obviously) mutant bar patron.

The tender asked him for a drink, to which Donnie answered, "Just water." He made sure to disguise his voice, giving it a slightly deeper tone than it normally was.

_Thank God for puberty,_ he thought.

Dogpound didn't pay the mutant next to him any mind. Normally he'd give the air a deep whiff to sense if he was trouble…but here in The Low *everyone* was trouble. He would've have been able to pick out one bad seed from another in this rotten bunch. He did sort of scoff at his drink choice.

"Cancel that order, Saul." Dogpound spoke in his gravelly tone. "Give 'em a scotch."

Dogpound glanced at the mutant to his side. "No one drinks water down here, kid."

Dogpound took another swig of his chocolate syrup and poured another glass. "…The Low is too dirty for water." Dogpound grunted, "Blood that can't be washed away…"

"You say that, but you're drinking… chocolate syrup?" he asked, his eye ridge cocking up slightly. He really didn't want to take on any alcohol. He knew the dangers that it held, and he couldn't afford to have his reflexes dulled or hampered down here with all of the Purple Dragons stalking the place.

The mutant's voice was familiar, but Donnie was unable to place it. It was probably nothing, just a stupid little coincidence. How many huge guys have high pitched voices anyway?

"I have a sweet tooth", Dogpound spoke with an audible grin. "Besides…alcohol doesn't agree with me. Funny thing about being a mutant is that it's not all just physical on the outside. Our insides change, too."

Dogpound took another sip, "I can't digest it. Hell…the only reason I can digest this is because I was a human first I reckon. Should be completely poisonous to me."

Dogpound stared down at the mug, "…But I guess I'm too lucky for that, huh?"

Saul, the Barkeep, returned to Donnie with a glass full of tonic water. Bitter to the taste just like booze with none of the side effects. "We're outta scotch. So I met ya halfway."

Dogpound tapped on the bar, "Running low on syrup."

Saul nodded and went to grab some more.

"New to The Low, kid?" Dogpound hadn't seen much of Donnie yet, just the clothes. Most mutants down here didn't wear clothes. Either they shed them because of the various mutations or…they didn't care. Dogpound kept his pants out of modesty.

"Hm. Hate that you can't die from one glass. What's the matter?"

Donnie nodded at the barkeep, and took a swig of the tonic water. It was bitter, not entirely pleasant, but Donnie would put up with the taste in order to placate his new found drinking buddy.

"The Low? Issat what you guys call it?" he asked, putting another spin on his changed voice. Grammar be damned for a few hours, he needed to lie low. That was the entire reason why he was clothed now anyway, so he could lie low and not be spotted.

"Yeah, I guess you could say I'm new here… a friend directed me to the place and… I was wondering if it was somewhere that I could be accepted. Mutants aren't generally revered, as I'm sure you know."

"Well, if you haven't noticed yet. We are very welcoming to Mutants down here. The Foot and The Purple Dragons provide…" Dogpound trailed off as he drunk. "They…they look out for us here. A lot of us don't know how or why this happened to us…and no one else cares to find out. Me? I'm glad this happened."

Dogpound took another swig and leaned forward a bit more…getting a slight buzz. "I was a great human…I was strong…I was fast…I had women…money…everything."

"But now?…I am powerful. I am feared…I am great…wait…I was great." Dogpound sighed.

"Not so much anymore. Now I'm just…I dunno." Dogpound knocked back another sip. "I'm not even sure what I am right now."

"Women, hah. I imagine based on how you look now you probably were pretty great." He took another sip of his drink, and bit back the objects of his taste buds. He glanced out of his hood, the massive form sitting next to him having no visible face.

"And hey, you look like you're plenty strong now. I mean, you're huge. Some people would kill to be that big. Some people have."

He could feel a sense of pity welling up in his chest. He wanted to ease his new found friend's sorrows, his empathy something that he couldn't help no matter how much he tried.

"I don't know what any of that's like though. Being powerful, strong, rich. Especially being strong. I'm… only really good for my brain. Sadly. It makes my brothers sort of… seem more important than me. And they milk that to death. It blows."

"Brothers, eh?" Dogpound laughed, "I wouldn't know about that. I was an only child back before I mutated." Dogpound leaned forward a bit more.

"Never had any of that sibling rivalry stuff. Now? …I guess I have a daughter…or a niece. I don't know. This girl…she's wonderful. She's a wonderful kid. But her dad doesn't set aside the time for her. Which is understandable given his circumstances." Dogpound took a swig and leaned back.

"But…when I look at her she reminds me of me when I was her age. Too absorbed in work and trying to be perfect. Not having a childhood…or anything." Dogpound continued, his speech slurring. "I…I try to set an example for her. Try to be the father she doesn't have at the moment. I'm not even sure if she appreciates it…but I'm tryin. It'll really be the only chance I got." Dogpound poured himself another glass. "Mutations and all…my ability to digest alcohol isn't the only thing that dosen't work properly anymore."

Dogpound help up his mug, "Cheers to being neutered in the most painlessly way possible."

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I love my brothers… but it feels like they don't appreciate me sometimes. I wish they would, but you know… I can't do anything to change them."

"Why do you have to care for her, if not her father?" he asked, a frown dominating his face. "I can tell you love her, because you think so highly of her. She should appreciate you. I think a guy like you could make a great Dad. My Dad is amazing, don't get me wrong, but I'm sure you would be too."

He frowned, "Neutered? Really? Fucking harsh…" He clinked his glass of water with the mutant, and took another gulp, draining the glass and setting it back on the bar. "How'd you find that out? It's kind of unorthodox, don't you think?"

"Well…the thing about brothers, at least from what I can see…is that you got a good head on your shoulders." Dogpound coughed a bit, "If you were like…a ninja or somethin'. There is always room on a team for the brains. Without the brains, the body doesn't move. You wanna know what the most important parts of the body are, kid?"

Dogpound pointed to Saul's head. "The head…" and then pointed to his foot. "And the foot."

Dogpound took a chug, "My master taught me that without a head, the body doesn't think. It's useless….but without a foot…the body looses balanced. No matter how hard it works, the brain can't overcome a lack of balance."

Dogpound kept talking, sounding eerily like Donnie's own master. "Sure, there's crutches…wheel chairs…prosthetic legs. What genius mind brought those up? The brain."

Dogpound nodded as he sipped his mug. "So if you're the smart one…then be that. Because I garuntee you if somethin' happens to you it will be the same as it never was. Families need people like you, kid."

Family.

Dogpound thought of Karai, "I'm her protector because her dead—my boss—runs a corporation. Countless hours jetsetting and providing…It's not that he doesn't care. He does. If he didn't he would have never—" Dogpound cut himself off.

"…If he didn't care he would've never tried this hard to keep her happy." Dogpound saved himself from spilling too much information.

Dogpound laughed a bit at Donnie asking him why his swimmers no longer swam, "When I first was mutated, my boss wanted a 'sample' from me. See if he could make an army of me…turns out all of my boats didn't have any sea men. If you catch my drift."

Donnie smiled, the words feeling genuine, and well intentioned. He asked the bar keep for another tonic water, then went back to his conversation, "Without the foot, the body loses balance. The brain moves the rest of the body. Two halfs make a whole. Your Master sounds like he knows what he's talking about."

Five of those words rang out in his mind, five words he'd commit to memory: _same as it never was._

"Her father runs a corporation? Incredible. You must be pretty well set up then, I'd imagine." he commented, taking a swig of the new glass of tonic. Donnie shook his head, "I just hate hearing that her Dad can't spend time with her. Again though, I can just tell you'd be a great father."

"No sea men. Ouch. That had to have sucked. Especially finding that out in front of him. An army of you would be pretty spectacular, though. All of that muscle roaming the streets? You'd control all of New York in a second." He snapped his fingers to put emphasis on his point.

He weighed his next words for a moment, but lifted his glass, "I think we could get along well. To friends." It wasn't usual for him to be so trusting of someone that he couldn't even see, but this man, this man clearly knew what he was talking about.

He felt a strange connection with this stranger...

Dogpound was leaned back, so he had to stretch his right arm out a bit to hit Donnie's glass. He exposed his bone-hand as he did. "To friends."

Dogpound clanked the glasses together and downed another gulp of his chocolate syrup. He was pretty sauced at this point. But still sober enough to see. "Yeah, …our boss provides pretty well. If you want I could get you some work…he has no problem hirin' mutants OR brains."

Donnie's eyes widened. He saw the mutant's hand, and suddenly everything made sense.

But _how?_ How had he gotten along so well with this enemy? This was someone who constantly wanted to kill him, who wanted to destroy him, yet they were chatting like good friends.

And he **_enjoyed _**it! He really loved this conversation, and… an empty hole had formed. He felt shame, and he felt disappointment. A friend had just turned into an enemy in less than a second. He'd felt a twinge of pain.

"Work for your boss? Sounds tempting," he replied, trying to keep his disguised voice steady. He downed the rest of his tonic, and shook his head. "Find me online. I think it'll be easy. I'll let you know about your offer," he lied.

He had to leave now. He went to stand, dropping a few bills onto the bar top.

"Leavin' so soon? Where ya gonna sleep? The streets!?" Dogpound stood up. "No way…C'mon we'll find you a hotel." Dogpound grabbed Donnie and pulled him in for a little side hug. When Donnie finally got in close a trickle of scent rose from him and trailed up to his nose.

Dogpound took a whiff…and shook his head…

No way.

Dogpound took a sniff again. He knew the smell…he knew it too well.

**Vermin!?..**

"…" Dogpound felt like he wanted to throw up. He just pour out his soul to VERMIN. VERMIN now knew his deepest dirty secrets. VERMIN now knew about Dogpound being sterile. VERMIN were in The Low! Dogpound shoved Donnie away. His vision blurring a bit as he was a bit drunk.

Dogpound took a defensive stance and was ready to attack…but he felt a burning sensation in his left shoulder. He felt the scars on his back with the crack of the whip. He remember how he got in this situation in the first place…for doing something just like this.

Dogpound dropped his stance.

"…Leave. Now."

"…Vermin."

He froze as the gigantic dog pulled him in close. He could feel the dog's fur tickle the side of his face, the scent of chocolate, and the mutant's own scent filling his nostrils. He suddenly began to hold his breath.

"I'm going, I'm going. I can't believe this… we became friends," he said, putting a hand on his face. He nodded his head as Dogpound dropped his stance.

Donnie turned to leave, and dashed out the door. He had to leave but… something clicked in his mind. This was a golden opportunity He could beat Dogpound. Not only was he incapacitated, but shit-faced drunk! He dashed onto the bar's rooftop, and grabbed his naginata.

He jumped back onto the pavement, and stood in front of the bar's door. This is wasn't going to be easy. Dogpound being drunk meant that he was possibly more violent than he was before, but he was slow. It could be avoided.

Dogpound was back at the bar, this time drinking syrup straight from the bottle. In the time it took Donnie go grab his weapon the bar had cleared out.

"…Vermin…I am giving you an opportunity here.", Dogpound sighed. He didn't want to fight. Although he had been dreaming of catching one of the vermin alone for a long time…he didn't want to fight.

He would just mess it up. He had JUST gotten through dealing with Shredder's punishment. He gave Karai his word. He was supposed to lay low.

He *had* to lay low.

"Leave. Do not come back."

"I… have to do this. I hate to, because… I actually kind of like you now. Oh my god, what am I saying. But still, I have to do this. I have to fight you. I have to keep my family safe, and that's what I plan on doing!"

When he finished his sentence, the blade of his naginata unsheathed, and the turtle got into his usual battle stance. He took a deep breath, holding it as he waited for the mutant's reply.

"I'm not fighting you, vermin." Dogpound sighed. Dogpound finished off the bottle and stood up. He turned around and begin to walk towards Donnie.

…And then almost past him.

"Move, vermin."

Donnie stood his ground, making no indication of moving. "How could we have even… gotten along?"

He didn't move. He was partially afraid too, because he knew how outclassed he really was. The four brothers together couldn't defeat this beast, so how could he, the brains, do it alone?

"We couldn't. I'm drunk. I say stupid shit when I'm drunk." Dogpound shoved Donnie aside, walking out of the bar and heading towards the street. "Go home, vermin. This is the last time I'll tell you."

Dogpound wanted to throw him through a wall. Be he couldn't. He didn't want to be punished again…he didn't want to let Karai down.

Donnie was not making this easy.

"Didn't sound stupid to me," he replied, "it sound rather… heartfelt, and profound."

He raised his naginata, and brought it down on the dog's good shoulder, the sharp metal grazing down his shoulder easily. He was completely prepared to run, and even took a small jump back once the hit was completed.

Dogpound took the slash to the shoulder, he doubled over a bit as blood began to streak his cloak.

"BOSS!…" Purple Dragons began to run towards Dogpound. "You alright!?"

Dogpound stood up, he glanced back at Donnie.

"Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch. 'tis enough. Where is my page?—Go, villain, fetch a surgeon." Dogpound spoke to one of the thoroughly confused Purps.

He had just quoted Romeo and Juliet. Hoping that somewhere deep down in Donnie's mind he would get the underlying meaning for quoting such a play. Not in the romantic sense, but in the ways of which why they couldn't get along.

Dogpound continued to walk away. He brought his arm up to cover the wound in his shoulder.

Of course Donnie understood the underlying meaning behind the line. The entire reason why they couldn't get along, two families (his own and the Foot Ninja) were bitter enemies, like Romeo and Juliet's. Simple and easy.

It made him hesitate, it made him try to stop. Dogpound just quoted Shakespeare, and to top it off, one of his best plays. But he pushed on, and started to run behind the mutated dog.

He felt like a child chasing after his father. When he came up close, and jumped close, bringing his staff down on the man's already hurt arm accidentally.

He hadn't realized the mistake that he had just made.

Dogpound tried to walk away.

He didn't want this.

But…Donnie brought this upon himself.

As the blade dug into Dogpounds already injured arm and spun around and grabbed Donnie's staff with his right hand. He held it there for a second…just so Donnie could feel just how badly he had messed up.

Donnie jerked the staff foward and kicked Donnie with all of his force back towards the bar, through the window.

"I warned you, vermin." Dogpound took off his sling, his arm wasn't healed…but at this point he was too numb to feel it. "I tried to give you just this once opportunity."

Dogpound pulled back his hood. "I tried to give you an inch…"

Dogpound removed his cloak. The Purps around him gasped a bit. Dogpound's back was raw with lashes from a whip. He was heavily banadaged and it was a miracle that h was even standing. Let alone drinking.

"You should've taken the mile."

Dogpound ran and leapt through the in the window towards Donnie.

As his bo staff was held in front of him for a moment, his eyes locked with the mutated dog's. White-reds met black-reds as the young teen smashed through the bar's window and into a table, breaking the window, and tables in the process.

Donnie stood and brushed off the broken glass, then looked around the room for his bo staff, hoping that it did get thrown into the bar with him.

He saw the state of his enemy, the whip lashes raw and festering. He thought for a moment that they might be infected. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, and jumped back through the window onto the street once again.

He brought a well timed strike onto the back of Dogpound's knees, thrusting all of his own weight into the hit, hopefully at least making a dent in the mutant's shield of armor.

Dogpound's knee buckled under him enough to stumble him a bit. He put his bad arm down to steady himself before swinging with literally all of his force at Donnie with his left hammerfist, knocking him clear across the bar and into another wall.

"Hnngh…" a mixture of being slightly drunk and all of his wounds made Dogpound slow to recover. He shook it off a bit and got into a defensive stance, centering himself.

Donnie grunted as he hit the wall shell first, and slumped down to the ground. He found himself able to move, by the graces of whatever deity was watching over him, but found a small chip in his shell that he would have to get one of his brothers to fix over. It wasn't deep, but it was still dangerous if left unattended to. It was part of his spine, after all.

Donnie grabbed his naginata once again, and rushed Dogpound. He was making a point to aim for the weakspots on the mutant, using his speed in order to overtake the mutated dog, and landing a slash on his back, right on top of some of the welt marks.

Dogpound closed his eyes and stayed in his stance. Outwardly it would look like he was centering himself and staying calm…but only he knew that he was actually in so much pain that he couldn't move. Even if he wasn't drunk right now he wouldn't be able to keep up with Donnie's speed in his condition. He knew he was going to take a hit…and it was going to hurt. But they didn't call it 犧牲的立場 (Stance of Sacrifice) for nothing.

Dogpounds raw and blood right left shoulder was completely exposed, Donnie could see the tendons in his shoulder struggling to hold on. But Dogpound just stood there…he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself as Donnie approached…

Donnie connected his hit easily, but when he saw the tendons, he hesitated before making his next move. It wasn't a stretch for him to say he felt bad for his enemy, seeing as how he'd grown some respect in the past few hours, but this… this was unreal.

"What the hell happened to you…?" the purple clad turtle asked, standing away from Dogpound. "You've got tendons clinging for dear life that I can _see_."

"Punishment." Dogpound grumbled, and before Donnie knew it he had lunged foward and grabbed Don's naginata, in another twist he pried it from Donnie's hands and into his own.

"…Nngh.." Dogpound fell to one knee, using Donnie's staff to steady himself he stood back up. "I…" Dogpound shook his head to steady his vision. "…will give you one last chance…vermin."

Dogpounds pupils were dialated as he snappd Donnie's bo-staff over his knee. "…Leave. Live to fight another day. Because…even with me bleeding…and bruised…do you really think that if somehow you did manage to defeat me that you'd get out of The Low alive?"

Donnie mulled it over. He knew that if he continued going that he'd be able to defeat Dogpound after a while, but the energy he exhausted by doing so would let all of the Purple Dragons jump him. It seemed logical that he should just go.

But he couldn't. He couldn't leave The Low, because he could finally take down one of the enemies that was threatening his family, something that would make their life a lot easier.

"Answer me this. He does shit like that to you. The Shredder, I mean. Why do you stay with him?"

Dogpoud didn't answer. Even in his drunken state he knew not to speak of The Shredder with vermin. Dogpound knew that Donnie was too stubborn to leave. He knew that he would have to force him out.

"RRAGGGH" Dogpound lunged at Donnie, grabbing him by the scuff of his hoodie. He leveled his head into Donnie's, giving him quite possibly the hardest headbutt he had ever given. In another swoop and threw Donnie against the wall and pinned him there with his right hand and leveled his left fist at Donnie. He could barely lift it…and as he did pain strained his face.

Donnie could feel the wall cracking behind him.

"…You shouldve left, vermin."

And with that Dogpound hit Donnie with all of his might, cracking the wall behind Don and sending him through it and back onto the street outside. The tendons on Dogpound shoulder tore completely from the bone and he fell to his knees. His arm hanging lifeless at his side.

The only thing he could feel was blinding pain. His shell was cracked once more. He could feel the splintering on the most vital parts of his body as he was punched through the brick wall. He coughed blood onto the front of his hoodie, staining the black with the dark red blood.

He let out a grunt and tried to move, he needed to know if he was paralyzed or not. He could move both of his legs. So he wouldn't be handicapped. That was good.

He looked up at the mutant, and noticed his limp hanging arm. _Tendons must have snapped when he hit me. Not surprising._

He stood up and took a small step towards the mutant, meaning to make eye contact with him.

Dogpound dragged his body through the hole in the wall, panting hard and fighting to stay concious. His left arm was completely uselss. He couldn't even twitch the fingers of it was he braced himself against the wall. He couldn't even feel the arm anymore, it was completely numb.

…Which is a bad thing.

"…" Dogpound moved his mouth but nothing came out, his entire body was shutting down. Purple Dragons begin to flow into the bar behind him…finally having seen enough and disobeying Dogpound's orders.

"…L…leave…" Dogpound managed to muttered, his legs shaking under him as he managed to maintain balance.

"…or I …will…kill you…"

Donnie grabbed his bo, and smacked it quickly against the side of Dogpound's head. He half-limped, half-sprinted away from the mutant dog afterwards, heading for the end of the Low. The previous manhole cover that he used wasn't safe. Nothing in the Low was safe anymore. Not that it ever really was to begin with. He grit his teeth as he left, the pain coming from his shell almost too much to handle. He was going to have to get the hole filled and have his shell repainted as it was before. Mikey would be the one for that job.

Dogpound stumbled backwards a bit as Donnie took off, the hit really didn't phase him as much…but at that point a strong breeze would've blown him over. The Purple Dragons gave chase to Donnie, but ended up losing his trail.

By the time they had returned to the bar, Dogpound was gone. No one saw him leave…no one noticed him on the streets.

But…he was gone.


End file.
